


Spin Me Again

by LadyLaela (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Depressing, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyLaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not crazy. You know you're not. A flick of the wrist, a turn of the dial, you'll go back and you can make it better. Again. Again. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin Me Again

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, guys. I've been having a hard time lately and I tried my best to write then this happened. Hopefully back to your regularly scheduled programming soon.

You're not crazy. You know you're not. A flick of the wrist, a turn of the dial, you'll go back and you can make it better. Again. Again. Again.

You had to stop telling them that they'd fucked up. You couldn't be bothered, it wasn't worth it. What would the point be, anyways? A pat on the fucking back? Oh, good job, Dave! You saved all of our lives again and none of us remember!

They knew about John. That first time, the one you prototyped yourself for. They don't now all the times you failed. The times you watched them die. They don't know that you'd never leave even _one_ of them, no matter how much of a struggle, no matter how illogical. It got to you, wormed down into your core – Jade cold and lifeless, Rose with broken bones and dead eyes, John breathing his last in your arms and spitting up blood.

You thought Rose got it once. You'd lost John for the thousandth time, she was telling you not to go back, telling you everything was almost over, he wouldn't want it that way, wouldn't want it undone. You must have given her one fucking manic snarl. For a moment you were sure she knew. You could see in her eyes that she saw every fucking time you'd gone back, could see what it was doing to you. It was ripping your insides to shreds and she reached out for you but you were already gone, spinning the tables and looking for him.

Your eyes got wider with each passing day, you lost more and more sleep, your dreams got worse. You couldn't save Bro no matter what you did, you were a wreck by the time you gave up. You still feel like a coward. You just couldn't bear to see him alive again, the next time would break you. You couldn't stand that perpetual little smile of his, not when his clock was ticking down and you were only too aware.

You should have been stronger. You could have saved him too.

There were days in the medium where the heat of LOHAC started to get to you. Days where your brain grasped the mantra like it was the only solid thing left, chanted _kill me kill me kill me_ and you wanted to lay down and give up, throw yourself on Noir's sword and just go out for good.

In the same breath you dragged yourself up with arms that were tethered and bolted to the ground and you kept your sorry ass alive because no one else could save them. No one else could do your job. If you died, no one could turn back the clock and fix everything.

It's you or no one. You won't let them die because you're a selfish fuck.

Just one more spin. One more. Again.

You got them all out alive. John calls you every night and babbles and cries. Sometimes he makes no damn sense at all. Jade rarely talks any more, so far as you know.

Rose's funeral is on Monday. She overdosed on her sleeping pills; no one knows if it was intentional or not.

You can do this. Go back one more time. Spin it again.

Your hand spiders on the table, tendons standing out and locking, fingertips poised, grasping for the grooves of a record that isn't.

One more time. Please. You'll get it right.

The phone rings, and you know it's John. You can't answer it, you can't listen to him cry. You need to do this again, just this last one. You can bring her back. You can fix everything.

There's no power beneath your hand, no twirling gears that obey your every whim. You can't make them come, they aren't there. There's no timetables, no caledscratch, no Bro to help you figure shit out, no Rose to be that voice of reason. John's a crying mess. How much longer can you protect him? He's not doing well and it's only a matter of time...

You're useless.

Your hand is a fist and your fist pounds the table and why couldn't you do it right in the first place? Everyone could be safe and happy and Bro would even be here and...

You're a failure.

You're a fucking failure.


End file.
